


Chocolat

by sometimesimeow



Series: Dessert [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Corruption, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Feminization, Fingering, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Praise Kink, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesimeow/pseuds/sometimesimeow
Summary: At the masquerade for the Harvest Moon, Willas only wants to be left alone. His desires change when he meets a charming boy in a wolf's mask.The story where Willas is an entitled noble who takes advantage of sweet bastards who run away from their daddies and just want to be loved.





	Chocolat

**Author's Note:**

> Jon’s age is ambiguous here but he’s pretty young (as you can tell by his behavior and innocence). Depending on what medium you based this on (show or books), he could be anywhere between 12-14. Willas is older. I imagine late teens to early twenties (18-21?)
> 
> Willas is pretty creepy here.

The Masquerade of the Harvest Moon was the event of the century, lauded and lusted for by all the Reach’s inhabitants and its neighboring bodies. Men and women sent for silks months in advance and took out loans to pay for their jewels. The most extraordinary element of their costumes were their masks. Artisans from all over the Reach were petitioned to turn porcelain and leather into art. One year, Willas recalled a noblewoman showing up in nothing by a fluorescent skirt and bare tits in an attempt to emulate a mermaid.

Despite the high chance of finding another attention starved noble, Willas could not transcend above tedium. He was dressed well enough for it; the mask of a hawk resting on his side. His mother and father had hoped that the outfit would spark his enthusiasm for the timeless event. The facade of fabric proved worthless. His mood, nihilistic. With his crooked leg, his identity shone brighter than a flame in a dark room. Even as his parents decorated his body in frills and laces, more amusement was festered for their antics than for any of the bodies coming through the gates.

Outside the haven of his study, he heard more people crowding and bustling through the halls. There were even cheers he could hear from the ballroom. He was sure his siblings were having the time of their lives, not yet reaching Willas’ disenchantment. Perhaps Loras was right. He’d become boring.

With a sigh, Willas took his cane to escape the festivities. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his absence was noticed and one of them, no doubt Garlan or his father, would soon send someone knocking on the doors to sniff him out.

Though it was a long walk, Willas traveled to the only place he was sure they wouldn’t look.

While the Tyrells were ardent worshippers of the New Gods (on paper, at least), they had what Willas believed to be the most impressive godswoods in the entire kingdom. By itself, the garden was a masterpiece of carefully planted trees, flowers, and fountains aligned and crafted to showcase the Reach’s prosperity. As a place of worship, it exemplified the greatness achieved in the new days and the old. Instead of having a single heart tree, their godswoods contains three tall weirwoods known as the Three Singers. The maester claimed that they were planted by Garth the Gardener himself, with the branches of the trees becoming so enmeshed over the centuries that they resembled a single tree cozied up together underneath the dense shade.  

Willas was not a spiritual man, but he enjoyed the solitude. No one would search for him here, and the sept was too loud. People were always praying and gossiping; even when the entire house was empty, he could still hear the people singing. The garden was always quiet in contrast.

Tonight was the exception.  

From twilight to the cusp of night, Willas waited on the hanging swing. He read while the light was decent. When he finished, his family would have given up their search. At the middle of the page, he heard a twig snap from afar. His ears perked when he heard the ‘thud’ of a small body and an “Omph!” from behind.

Turning around, Willas saw a small figure tumble onto the grass. Her dress hung on the bushes and down with the body was a brown wig tussled off her head. Her wolf’s mask managed to stay on, but he doubted the girl would have cared if it broke or fell. It was cheap. When Willas limped forward, he was surprised to see that the clumsy girl was a darling boy instead. The dress was falling off his shoulders—much too big for such the small creature—and he struggled to get up on his dainty heels.   

Willas watched his every move, from how he shook off his fall to the way his plush lips pursed at his gaucherie. Willas walked forward. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The boy jumped. “Yes, I…” The sentence died on his lips. When he caught sight of Willas, he covered his mouth in disgrace.

If Willas wasn’t sure of his masculinity before, he was positive now. The young boy had a sweet voice, but he was distinctively male. He burned in humiliation. Though the mask covered the top half of his face, it did nothing to hide the pink painted on his creamy skin.  

Before he could run away, Willa stopped him with a soft, deliberately non-threatening command. He made sure to emphasize his limp when he walked forward. “Please stop. I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”

The boy tensed but to Willas’ relief, he obeyed. He was a good child, Willas noted. Taught to heed commands and follow orders. Once he got a better look at him, he saw that while the boy’s hands were seasoned, they were nowhere near as rough as a laborer. Swords training, no doubt. His brothers held the same hands. The dress was not as elaborate as one would expect for the masquerade but beautiful regardless. He was wealthy, or at least, borrowed it from someone who was.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

The boy hesitated before shaking his head.

Willas chuckled. “I know you’re a boy. You don’t have to hide from me.”

The boy gasped. Willas saw his eyes dart to the side. The Highgarden heir suspected he would try to make a run for it. The thought made him frown. Perhaps his grandmother was right; he was spoiled, but he could not allow the only exciting thing to happen tonight get away.

“Forgive me for asking,” Willas started. He made sure to sound gentle, almost doting. He used the same tone to yield secrets from his siblings. If those shrewd little rosebuds could not deny their big brother than neither could this nymphet. “But I need some help getting to my room.” He directed the boy’s attention to his leg. “Would you lend me your shoulder, darling?”

The boy’s eyes widened. He looked down. 

"I'm not a darling," he muttered, even as the pink dusted his body. 

Willas' lips twitched in delight. The man knew he’d found his shovel. "Well, what do you like to be called?" Willas asked, right before he suggested they take the conversation to his room. "It's getting quite dark. I'd like to get to know you."

Despite his reluctance, the boy began to speak, “I…I’m not supposed to…talk to anybody."

Willas raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is it because I’m a stranger?” Willas asked. “Such a good boy,” he praised.

The boy flushed. His mouth opened with desperation—as if he were starving for approval. All Willas needed to do was whisper a few more sweet nothings, and the boy would be spreading his thighs like butter. “Let me introduce myself so we are no longer strangers. I am Willas Tyrell of Highgarden and these are my lands you are trespassing on.” Willas winked at him. "Not that I mind. You are too precious to be angry at, _darling_." 

The boy blanched when he heard Willas' name. Willas figured he’d be nervous. The nymphet’s shoulders dropped in submission and his lips trembled with dread.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” he murmured, sweet and sticky as clotted cream. 

Willas’ cock twitched. He considered conversion for a brief moment. It seemed the old gods were offering him a gift.  

“Whatever could you be sorry for?” Willas asked. “Have you done something wrong? Is that why you’re hiding here?”

The boy looked down in shame. He nodded.

“Don’t worry, you can tell me. I won’t get angry,” Willas promised. The lame man decided to be bold. He reached out and petted the cub’s curls. “You’re safe with me.”

The touch did the trick. Before long, the sweetling was preening against hands.  

“My father’s wife did not want me to attend,” the boy confessed, “I did not want to upset her, so I planned to obey but…” The boy made a pained expression. Even with the mask, Willas could tell he was hurt. “My brother and sister insisted. They said they’d be bored without me. The dress was supposed to be a disguise but it belonged to my aunt, and my father recognized it at once. He…” The boy choked up. “He looked so angry.”

Willas frowned outwardly though his insides rejoiced. He was pleased to see the boy wince.

The mention of his father’s wife clarified the situation immensely. _The child was a bastard._ A creature starved for affection and desperate for acceptance. “You poor thing,” Willas soothed. His hand traveled downwards so that he was cupping the child’s face. He was warm despite the chill of the coming night. Willas stroked his thumb against the boy’s lips, so plump and pink, and felt it quiver against his touch. Despite his forwardness, the child did not turn away. If anything, he was more drawn to Willas than ever before. “I’m sure everything will be alright.” He thought for a moment before adding, “You’re so lovely tonight; Your image alone would make him forgive you.”

The boy shook his head furiously. “No, he won’t.”

“Yes, he will,” Willas insisted. “He’s your father. He loves you.” Willas sounded sure but patronizing. It was the tone adults used when they knew nothing at all but thought they did. He watched as the child turn away in disbelief.

Good, Willas thought. He didn’t want the boy running back before he had a taste.

“I’m a bastard, and I disobeyed his wife’s order,” the child explained. Behind the mask, he winced, worried that Willas would throw him to the wolves now that he was aware of his status.  

Willas used these fears to his advantage. In one smooth, efficient motion, he wrapped the child up in his embrace. The talons of a hawk were vast and monstrous and sunk into the boy before he could comprehend the sting.

“You sweet thing,” Willas sighed. “If you were my blood, I’d turn to jam at the sight of your tears.”  

The kindness entranced the boy. He did not struggle, not once, and leaned into the comfort.

Willas let go to look into his unveiled eyes. He would keep the mask on less someone saw them and alerted the child’s father. For a bastard, the boy is well kept. Willas did not lie before. The child was loved; there was no way an average bastard could remain as tender and untouched.

“Help me to my bedroom,” Willas insisted. His tone was faint as not to alert the child to the force behind the request. “You can hide there until the party is over. Tomorrow, if your father is still cross, you can tell him I asked for your assistance. He cannot possibly be angry at you for following a lord’s request.” 

The boy did not agree immediately. 

Willas was not surprised, but he was disappointed. The heir could hear the internal dilemma. A boy as pretty as the wolf-child would have been cautioned against grown men and their honeyed offerings.  He knew better than to follow a stranger into their home. Fortunately, Willas had planted enough doubt to weed out his father’s teachings.

"And if your father has not forgiven you then I swear, on my value as a Tyrell, to offer asylum until the matter is settled." He kept his tone light and full of humor and jest. "But please, we must go soon. The cold air always causes my leg to ache. I must ask you to play a hero tonight." 

The boy tried not to smile. He was not from the Reach, who taught their boys and girls to bear their sweetest grins no matter the crisis. 

“Alright,” he agreed. The reluctance was evident, but Willas chose to relish in his victory. Though they had just met, the child was already taking his word over his guardian’s.

Before they left for Willas’ bedroom, the high lord had the sense to ask for a name.

“Jon,” the pretty child whispered. It was a common name. Willas frowned in disappointment. There were plenty of snows, stones, and flowers named Jon. His setback was easily overcome when Jon offered his shoulder to lean on. Willas watched as the strap of his dress fell off once more and gave him a glimpse of Jon’s puffy nipples.

What a tease, Willas thought.

***

The two of them made it to Willas’ room unseen. Most of their servants were attending to the party guests, leaving Willas alone with the pleasure of Jon’s company. He would not waste the opportunity.

Once Jon helped him onto the bed, he turned to leave. Willas was quicker than him. He latched onto Jon’s arm and requested another favor.

“Could you grab a box from by the drawer over there. The red one with the gold trimmings? And the bottle of wine on top of it.”  
Not for the first time, Jon displayed petulance. Willas watched him grab the box and the bottle with a pout. He brought them to Willas and made another attempt to escape.

“Would you like some chocolate?”

Willas swore he saw the mask’s ears twitched. He smiled. 

Jon turned around and tilted his head in curiosity. “What’s chocolate?” He asked. 

Willas opened the box. The rich smell of cacao filled the room. “It’s a treat from Dorne. A friend of mine lives there and sends them to me by the pounds. I’m quite addicted.” He picked up a piece. “Here.”

Jon hesitated. Willas understood his reluctance. The brown pebbles resembled droppings of an unknown animal. He would have asked the boy to bring out the prettier ones—the ones he saved for his most stressful days and memorable successes—but he doubted the boy would indulge in something so extravagant.

To ease him in, Willas took a piece for himself. He smacked his lips dramatically and moaned like a madman. Jon, for the first time tonight, giggled.

“Delicious,” Willas praised. He picked up another morsel. “Your turn.”

Jon resisted at first. Eventually, Willas' cock got a treat of its own when Jon climbed onto the bed and crawled towards the chocolate. When Jon reached out to get it, Willas pulled back. He chuckled at Jon’s pout.

“Come closer.”

Jon frowned. “Why?”

“Traditionally, chocolates are fed by hand,” Willas lied. “If you’re eating them for the first time, I want you to enjoy them as they were intended to be enjoyed.”

Jon bit his lip. The heir was surprised when the child continued his trek. He half-expected the wolf cub to retreat. Instead, the boy opened his mouth and showcased his welcoming throat. Willas’s fingers entered his mouth, and he pressed the chocolate against Jon's tongue. The taste left Jon’s eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

“That’s delicious!” Jon murmured. He started sucking off any traces of the cocoa. When Willas took them out, they left with a loud ‘pop.’

Jon whimpered. “Is that all?” He whined. As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned away to escape his embarrassment. Willas used his left arm to grab ahold of his waist. He trapped the boy with a smile and grabbed another piece of bribery.

“There’s more.” Willas pressed the chocolate against Jon’s lips. Jon took it in greedily. “You can have as many as you want,” Willas promised.

 “Thank you, my lord.” Jon swallowed another piece. He did not mind Willas’ hold on him, nor did he complain when Willas undid the laces of his dress. He was the picture of obedience.

Willas chuckled at his luck. He was six pieces in when he decided another extravagance was in order.

“How about we have some wine? It’s marvelous with the chocolate. The Dornish are certainly masters of pleasure.”

Jon paused. “I’m not supposed to drink alcohol.”

“Oh?” Willas pretended to be surprised. “I think you’re old enough for a sip.” He traced circles into the small of Jon’s back. The boy shivered, but he did not pull away. He was so soft and pliant. Willas could not wait to have him on his back.

Jon shook his head. “Father only allows me a cup at parties, and this looks expensive. It’ll be wasted on me.”

“I can afford it,” Willas reassured. Jon’s modesty was endearing, but Willas' cock was as hard as a hammer, and he needed to pound something soon. He caressed Jon’s cheek, much to the younger boy’s surprise. “You deserved to be treasured, Jon. So solemn and serious. It makes me want to take care of you.” Willas opened the bottle. He drank some of the wine earlier to get through the festivities. The flavor was sweet and probably amongst the finest in his collection. “How could anyone be angry at you?” Willas breathed out. “Let me give you the attention you deserve.”

Jon melted like chocolate in his arms.

Willas brought the bottle to his lips; he watched with pleasure as Jon’s virgin throat gulped down the luxury. Small bulges of wine went down his throat like balls of cum. When Jon ran out of breath, he stopped drinking. Dribbles of red spilled down his throat and onto his nipples. His eyes dilated and his skin was hotter than before.

Willas could not help himself. He pressed his lips against Jon’s chest and sucked on his skin. The Tyrell groaned. Jon tasted even better than he imagined. He licked and nibbled on every surface he could find.

Jon whimpered accordingly. His hands tangled into Willas’ hair, and though he squirmed, he made no efforts to get away. The child was not drunk, but his defenses were severely weakened. Bastards were products of pleasure, and with the wine and the chocolates, Jon was no more than an eager hole.

Willas listened to Jon’s protests and chuckled at his half-hearted pleas. Each defense that sweet mouth uttered was too soft to be heard or too forced to be true. Beautiful boys yearned to be defiled. It won’t be long until Willas fucked those complaints into prayers. Those pale cheeks were going to be the nicest pair Willas had ever plowed.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Willas promised. He pressed his tongue into Jon’s still gaping mouth. Jon sucked onto it without thinking. The effect was instant. When they parted, Willas kissed his cheek. “All I need is the oil in my dresser. Can you get it for me? You’ll love it. It’s flavored with a spice called vanilla and has the taste of apples.” Willas was going to fuck him either way, but if Jon consented, he would have a chance for preparation. ‘Nice and slick felt great on the dick’ said the deviant nursery rhyme.  “Jon, please get it for me. I want nothing more than to fuck your cunt until you’re bloated with cum.”    

Jon moaned and his eyes fluttered with excitement. The mask was still on him. Before Willas could take it off, Jon crawled over to the dresser and picked out the jar of oil.

Willas chuckled as he slathered his fingers with the slick. He pushed aside Jon’s filthy, precum-soaked panties—the naughty boy—to stroke against Jon’s puckered hole. Jon’s breath hitched and tightened his hold on Willas.  

“You’re such a gorgeous, filthy boy,” Willas murmured against his ear. Jon shivered at the backhanded praise. “So innocent yet so willing to get your cunt destroyed. You don’t even know me yet you’re offering your precious hole like it’s nothing. I thought you were a sweet boy.” Willas sighed in pleasure. “But you’re nothing more than a whore—an untouched whore. Does your father know you’re a slut? What would he say if he saw you right now?” Willas hummed as he pressed a finger inside. “Can you imagined his face when he sees how eager you are to open up your sweet, tight cunt for a stranger’s big, fat cock?”   

Jon’s arms dropped and wrapped around Willas’ neck. He pressed his chest against Willas and nestled his head into the crook of his shoulder. Jon was burning in shame yet his ass was shaking for more. The Highgarden heir chuckled. The boy was too cute. He had to tease him.  

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Willas suggested as he petted Jon’s hair. “You were asking me so sweetly to stop. Maybe I should let you go?”

Jon shook his head. That wasn’t a yes, so Willas continued. He pressed his pointer fingers into Jon’s ass and started spreading out the hole. Jon tightened up immediately. He bit Willas’ shoulder to keep himself from screaming.

“Your ass is rather averse to letting me enter,” Willas noted. He took out his left finger and placed in three more from his right. The sound of slick was heaven on his ears. He licked the shell of Jon’s ear. The boy trembled, seconds away from coming. “I should stop now. Get you cleaned up and return you to your daddy.” Willas added in a fourth finger. Jon needed it. “Why don’t you tell me who he is so I can send someone for him?”

Jon sobbed. “No,” he begged. “No, I want to stay.”

Willas raised an eyebrow. “ _Stay_? Is that all you want?” He curled his fingers against Jon’s prostate. Jon screamed. “Once your daddy sees this eager cunt; you might have to stay here anyway,” Willas reminded. "He might not let you in his arms again once he knows how filthy you've been. If you let me fuck you, you're no longer his little boy anymore. _You're mine's_."

Jon sobbed. “No, I don't want to…I want you to…”

“What do you want, Jon?”

Jon cried some more. “I want you to fuck me!” He shouted, humiliated. “I want you to, to ruin my cunt. And, and...” The tears that filled up his eyes made Willas’ cock trembled. “Please fuck me with your fat cock.”

Willas sighed in pleasure. 

“I’m going to take care of you, darling,” Willas assured. He got out his bulge and guided it to Jon’s slick hole. “You’re so ripe and wet. When I’m finished, everyone is going to know how badly I ruined you."

Jon cried as Willas slid inside him. Willas wanted to be patient and ease inside Jon’s virgin cunt. His hopes were dashed the second the crown of his cock caught against Jon’s rim. Jon lifted his hips off the cock to avoid further intrusion.

“Hurts,” Jon sobbed.

The noise was mouthwatering, but the denial was infuriating. Willas grabbed Jon’s hips and slammed them all the way down, ramming his cock onto Jon’s prostate. The combination of Jon’s tightening and his clenched walls made the Highgarden heir see stars.

The pleasure turned Jon into a limp doll whose only purpose was milking Willas’ cock. Willas gave him the courtesy to adjust before he started moving. The sight was one for dreams. The sweet boy was split on his dick and balls deep.

Willas groaned as Jon started to massage him from the inside. The best thing was he wasn’t even trying. His body just knew how to take cock.

“Glad I got to you first,” Willas mumbled. He started to rock upwards in short thrusts. “You were made for this. Born to have this tight, ripe cunt _fucked_.”

Jon whimpered and gasped and made all sort of enticing noises to loosen Willas’ restraints. The man slapped Jon’s ass. _Hard_. “Don’t slow down. I want you to fuck yourself on me.”

Jon sobbed. He was too young to understand what a steady pace was and made do with rough.  He used the last of his strength to bounce on Willas’ cock with fervor. Willas helped out by thrusting in with wild abandon, adding more force than necessary. Willas could hear the squelching noises of Jon’s ass, and it made him pound even harder.

“Do you hear that? You’re as wet as a woman right now,” Willas teased. He grinned and kissed Jon again. Jon adored kissing. The inside of his cunt fluttered around his cock. Willas made a note of the sensation and started kissing him again. “Loose as one, too. Your hole could make me fall in love.”

The word 'love' ruined him. 

Jon threw his head back. He rode Willas' dick like a horse and didn't stop no matter how hard Willas hit him. Willas groaned as Jon’s walls wrapped around him tighter than before. Jon, without so much as a word of permission, came all over his chest. In frustration, he shoved Jon onto his cock in a particularly hard thrust and had his orgasm ripped out of him. He shot straight inside Jon, gushing in with warm wetness deep into his body and filling up his womb. Willas’ cock was so big that it plugged the cum inside. Jon's stomach bloated into a small pouch. Willas decided to change that when he slowly retracted from Jon’s wet hole. The feeling of the night air was unwelcomed, but the sight before him made up for it.

Jon’s eyes were blown and his body was covered in bruises. His lips swelled and his hole was red and puffed out with cream dripping out.

Willas leaned back and sighed with pleasure. He grabbed the blanket to cover the two up in case one of the servants came looking for him.

As soon as the sheets touched his naked body, Jon whimpered.

“…did I do good?” Jon asked.

Willas was startled. He lifted up the blanket and saw that Jon’s eyes were out of focus, but there was a sense of desperation in them.

Willas could no longer resist. He did what he should have done hours ago, and took off the mask.

Oh.

Willas was sure his heart skipped a beat.

The boy was prettier than he imagined. Prettier than any girl in Highgarden, the entire Reach, or all of Westeros.

“You were perfect,” Willas whispered. His cock was hardening again. “Tomorrow, I’ll get you your own box of chocolates.” And toys and silks and whatever Jon wanted if he let him get another taste of that hole.

Jon nodded as he dozed off. Willas petted his hair languidly, and he swore he heard the boy purred. Willas realized something then. Jon was an addict for affection. He wanted love and was willing to use his body to get it.

Willas contemplated options. The boy was only going to get more beautiful as he got older. Willas had no doubt about it. He was young enough to be groomed but old enough to retain his person. 

Tomorrow, he was going to find this boy’s father and make an offer to foster his sweet cunt. He doubted it would be hard. Most noblemen, even ones who loved their bastard offspring, were eager to find them a place in this world. As Willas’ paramour, Jon would be taken care of until the end of his days. There was not a nobleman in Westeros who wouldn’t accept his offer.

Unless, of course, his father was Ned Stark.

Willas scoffed at the incredulity. The Starks had not attended the masquerade in over twenty years. What were the chances that Jon was their Snow?

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo! My first WillasxJon story and it's absolutely filled with creepiness. I honestly wanted this to be more lighthearted because of the masquerade aspect and then it became dirtyfilthywrong. Either way, I contributed to the WillasxJon fandom and hopefully will continue to do so. (●ↀωↀ●) 
> 
> Hope you like it!  
> So I posted a July schedule here. It might be off by 1-2 days but like I said, I try to give people warnings about that.


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